A comfortable pattern
by dangerousanimals
Summary: Dan. Serena. A bottle of wine. The night before the morning after. The night of 3.21


"Thanks for letting me stay the night Dan, thanks for . . . everything," she spoke slowly, quietly. As if the events of tonight had taken almost everything out of her.

They sat crossed legged on his bed five inches apart, in silence. The empty bottle of wine discarded. They hadn't bothered with glasses. They were both thinking the same thing, they knew it. A mental slide show flashing before their eyes of all the 'fun' times they'd had together in this very room, on this very bed. After all these years, they were still overwhelmed by each others presence. Neither wanting nor needing to say anything, catching each others eye every few minutes.

There it was again.

As always, he recognized the pain in her big, blue, eyes. Even through her constant facade of happiness, it was always there. Tonight was no different, if not worse. Dan wondered if anyone else saw it, or if it was just him. He hated seeing it, he wanted more than anything, to take it away. He would move the stars just to see her smile. He would change the world for her to never shed another tear.

As always, she basked in his gaze. She'd almost forgotten what it was like to be under something that intense. Even though they had broken up, there it remained, as strong as ever. No one had ever looked at her like that, and it was only now she realized that no one else ever would. But now there was streak of protectiveness and worry mixed into it. It made her nervous; sometimes she thought that he could see through her barriers even though she insisted that she was fine. Never bad, never good. Just fine. She was waiting for someone to prove her wrong, that not all people would hurt her if she let them in. Maybe Dan was that person. . .

"Hey, you sure you're okay?" he asked once again and she closed her eyes.

"I'm better now," was all she said. He was still overwhelmed by the sadness that filled her voice. Rufus had always been there for him and for Jenny, he was 110% sure that Rufus would never abandon them no matter how old they got. Serena had never known that. He swore to himself that he would always be there for her, no matter what happened. He would never leave.

Still, she could feel his gaze on her and her curiosity got the better of her, or maybe it was the wine. Whatever it was it urged her on, looking right into his eyes.

"I used to think about marrying you Dan Humphrey," she pondered, smiling, making him smile. She was saying things that she shouldn't, they were both in relationships. Though she couldn't help it, she knew it was still there and she knew that he felt it too. She dropped to a whisper "It was real wasn't it? What we had?"

He remained silent, his brown eyes locked to her blue ones and immediately she felt stupid. Of course it was.

For once she had rendered him speechless, he knew it was real but he didn't know what to say. He was certain that her effect on him would never fade. She was after all, beautiful. Inside and out, faults and all. It was now that he finally accepted all of who she was and stopped judging, all too late. He reached forward and wound a strand of her golden hair around his index finger, indulging in their closeness. Somewhere in the depths of his mind, his moral compass was telling him not to, that it was a bad idea. But the wine had paralyzed his inhibitions and he leaned in closer as she closed her eyes once more. Light as a feather he brushed his lips along her temples, her cheeks, her neck, her jaw and finally, their lips meet. She hadn't realized how much she had wanted this, how much she had missed his small, romantic gestures. Everything began to bring back vivid memories that she had somehow managed to suppress; his intoxicating, unchanging smell of soap and maple syrup; the way she shivered when he held her; the electric buzz that filled them when they shared even the slightest amount of skin. It was like they were sixteen years old again, like no time had passed, when everything was simple, before everything had gotten complicated.

His arms around her waist, hers around his neck. She let him lay her down, pressed together, their lips never parting. Soft, sweet, nostalgic . . . Suddenly the wine took complete control, nothing else mattered now. Their kisses were now full of lust and longing, desire and danger. Before she knew it, her clothes were on the floor, followed by his. He knew what he wanted and so did she. The world fell away, and all that mattered was each other.

Neither stopped to question, to explain, to justify or rationalize. . .

That was what the morning was for. . .


End file.
